Golf Ends on the 19th Hole
by Geezworld234
Summary: The UCOS team investigate the death of female golfing champion Dervla Spencer, of course this prompts Brian to take a keen interest in the sport. Will he be able to successfully learn how to play during the case? And who will successfully teach him?
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer: I do not own New Tricks or any of the characters from the series. **_

_**A/N As much as I have tried my best to research all there is to know about golf I am not a golfer and knew next to nothing about the subject before writing this. Also as far as I am aware all the characters I have brought into this, events and the case is purely fictional and as the BBC say any references to people living or dead is coincidence! **_

_**I guess all that is left for me to say is I hope you enjoy this and reviews are welcome. x**_

It was the beginning of a new morning and that particular morning was the begging of a new case for the highly prosperous Unsolved Crimes and Open Case Squad.

For Jack Halford that meant only one thing, an early start, so he could test out his home driving range. He not only found it therapeutic but he saw it as the best way to keep his mind sharp and himself focused, with every swing of his golf club, he thought about the day ahead and how his full attention to detail was vital when beginning a newly reopened case.

This was Jack's favourite part of the day, getting into gear and talking to his beloved Mary as the warm inviting pink and orange colours broke away the darkness of what had come before, leaving in its place the clarity and certainty that it would be a promising day ahead. After all it wasn't even half past seven yet, drops of early morning dew still lingered on the flowers in the hanging basket, and Jack had already enjoyed three of his four favourite things the day had to offer.


	2. New Case

It was the same almost every morning, Jack would arrive only a matter of minutes after his boss and one time protégé, Sandra Pullman. Today the blonde Superintendant was heading up the white board ready to crack on with the latest investigation.

"Dervla Spencer, one of the greatest female golfers the United Kingdom and in fact the world has ever seen, before her Women's Open days she played for Richmond Park Golf club and had an official handicap of 3. At the time she was the youngest high flying female golfer the country has ever seen." Jack said eyeing up the brunette's portrait, which sat at a tilted angle on the board.

"You sure know your onions Jack." Sandra said smiling as she clocked eyes on the man who was once her mentor and now full time father figure.

"Well what can I say, I love anything and everything to do with Golf, but Dervla was something else, she was special, the cream of the crop. You know after her untimely death the golfing world was never the same."

"Oh really, I don't pay much attention to golf but I am aware of who she was, Dervla Spencer was without a doubt a great source of achievement for woman around the globe."

Their conversation was interrupted by the loud bang of the double doors swinging aggressively into the cream walls, followed by the repetitive clicking rhythm of a rather worn bicycle chain.

"Ah Dervla Spencer, female Grand Slam champion in 2000 and 2003, and also won the Women's Open consecutively from 2001- through to 2004. It is thought that she would have won it again in 2005 had she not died three days before the competition."

"Thank you Brian perhaps just once I will be able to introduce the case for a change." Sandra sighed, rolling her eyes in frustration.

"Sorry Sandra" Brian said retreating to his seat and unclipping his safety helmet.

Once Gerry, who was 10 minutes late on account of his car being clamped, (he was getting better by the day at arriving on time) Sandra began explaining the case in full.

"Right, professional golfer Dervla Spencer, aged 27 died on the 16th July 2005 just three days before she was due to compete in the Open Championship."

"Cause of death?" Gerry inquired.

"Overdose, she had been treated a couple of months previously for anxiety by a Doctor Jessop, the media claimed that the pressure of being the golfing number one had gotten to her. She had been prescribed benzodiazepines tablets but the treatment had run its course. Yet the post-mortem showed high quantities of the drug in her stomach." The Governor explained.

"She was found by her ex husband at the clubhouse on her private golf course which runs onto the back of her property." Sandra concluded.

"Well they do say golf ends on the nineteenth hole" Gerry interjected.

"When did you know so much about golf?" Brian asked bemused.

"It's not the golf it's the booze ain't it, the bar helps make up the final hole" Gerry tried to explain to the unimpressed northerner.

"What were the conclusions of the original investigation?" Jack asked, attempting to get back to the task in hand.

"Inconclusive, the pathologist, a Doctor Donald Morag, was suspended for unprofessional behaviour just a week after the post mortem was published so in light of the investigation and the Doctor's behaviour the coroner quashed the ruling."

"Ah" Gerry said sucking the air through his prematurely yellowing teeth brought on by a lifetime of smoking cigarettes.

"What else did the original investigation unearth?" Brian inquired.

"Not a great deal by all accounts, there were a few leads that didn't get anywhere; Ms Spencer had recently split up from her husband of five years, Jeremy Crawford and their custody battle over their three-year-old daughter, Rita. This drew the attention of the world's media. He was dropping Rita off when he discovered Dervla's body. This was about 7.30pm; time of death has been put down at between four and half past six. There were also signs that she hadn't been alone in the clubhouse but there was no sign of a break in or any altercations, the club house had no CCTV and forensics didn't find anything to point towards the death being suspicious. " Sandra replied.

"Yes I remember, their divorce was brought to the public eye no matter how hard they tried to deal with it behind closed doors, he claimed that he couldn't cope with her fame and there was rumours that he had several affairs, none of which were ever confirmed" Jack recalled.

"Didn't she have a boyfriend at this point?"

"She did Brian, the original investigation paid close attention to Peter Rose as neighbours reported 'threat and scenes of violence at all hours of the morning- he hated her being famous and felt powerless compared to her. Mr Rose was a selfish, domineering power freak who would have preferred Ms Spencer to stay at home and cook and clean for him'" Sandra read from the case files.

"So why has this case been given to us?" Gerry said sinking back into the sofa.

"Well a journalist Annie McCormack is writing a book on how Miranda Jordan, Spencer's golfing rival should have been the champion and the time. During her research she came across Miss Jordan's MySpace page and just days before Dervla Spencer's death Miranda Jordan posted this." Sandra handed each of the older men a piece of paper with a print screen image of the evidence.

"Dervla Spencer has won enough awards in this sport, it is time to ensure that other hard working woman golfer's get the recognition that they deserve and this year will be my year. One way or another something bad will happen to Spencer to ensure she doesn't win." Jack read aloud, his rounded glasses perched on the tip of his nose, completing the inspecting look.

"Where do you want us to start then Gov'nor?" Gerry asked sounding rather enthusiastic for a change.

"Gerry do you want to try the ex husband, there is an address for him in the file. Jack see if you and Brian can track down Peter Rose, I will try and find this doctor who prescribed Dervla with benzodiazepine. Make sure you are all back here for no later than half past one, Strickland has arranged for us to speak with Miranda Jordan at half past two." Sandra delegated.

"Righto Guv" Gerry saluted before he put on his coat and went off on his quest to speak to Jeremy Crawford.


	3. Father Dear Father

Gerry pulled his treasured old Stag in front of prestige town house. He had to get out of his car and reach up high to press the intercom on the vicious iron gates, that did exactly what they were designed to do- keep out unwelcome visitors. The sharp spikes running off the top of the metallic frame made even the most high security prison look inviting.

Gerry shuddered as he clocked his eyes on the ugly stone gargoyles that were unrecognisable of any animal, vegetable or mineral. Gerry chose to see them as ugly devil dragons with the warts of toads on their faces. They reminded him of Sandra when she was in one of her foul moods.

"Who is it?" A voice belonging to a man who sounded like he had swallowed several plums, crackled through the intercom.

"Gerry Standing, I'm from the Met's Unsolved Crime and Open Case Squad, I would like to speak to a Mr. Jeremy Crawford, we are re investigating the death of Dervla Spencer."

"Hold your ID badge to the camera, it's above the intercom speaker" the same irritating accent ordered.

Gerry did what the voice told him and jumped back into his classic car, quickly reversing as the gates aggressively swung open. He crawled along the drive taking in every detail of the property, from the size of the house, to the excessive water feature taking up one side of the front part of the ground.

Gerry parked his car a little way from the lavish entrance of the building which was propped up by the marble pillars. Before he had even made his way to the front door and down the stony drive the tall man who Gerry had already identified as Jeremy Crawford from the picture on the board in the office, was stood their ready the greet him.

"Good morning Mr Standing, so sorry for all the orders, one has to be so cautious these days." The gentleman with the piercing green eyes said pleasantly, as if his demeanour changed when interacting with people face-to-face.

"It is quite alright" Gerry said smiling a little.

"I have my daughter Rita to think about" he explained, inviting the retired copper inside with a gesture of arm which was dressed in a designer shirt.

"Oh I understand, I have four and they are always the priority, even now they have flown the nest" Gerry smiled. He had a feeling he may have misjudged Crawford.

Gerry was invited into the reception room which was just as plush as the exterior of the house. He smiled as he scanned the room; it was obvious that despite the divorce and her death Jeremy still held an ever inflamed torch for Dervla.

"I can't tell you how pleased I am to hear that you are reopening the case, I never believed Dervla could have killed herself. She had so much going for her, her never ending sporting success, her friends and not to mention her family."

"I understand at the time leading up to her death the pair of you had disagreements over your daughter's custody, is that correct?"

"Well... umm... yes it was" Jeremy hesitated. "You have to understand I still loved Dervla with all my heart even now I love her unconditionally, just like I did when she died." His face looked pained and forlorn as he spoke trying desperately to shake off the regretful tone caught in the back of his throat.

"If you still loved her then why did your marriage end the way it did?"

"I couldn't handle the endless attention the media kept giving us, they were hounding us for pictures of Rita, and it really upset me how Dervla and I could not have any quality time together what with the Piers Morgans and the fact that she thought she had to keep getting better and better at golf. By the end I hardly saw her. We were living separate lives. Even Rita couldn't keep us together. All those rumours about me sleeping around were nothing more than that- gossip."

"How would you describe Dervla's behaviour towards you during these months?"

"Oh you know, it was difficult and very strained, we both had clear visions of what we thought was best for our little girl but we couldn't agree."

"It is difficult mate; I should know I have four daughters and three ex wives."

"Blimey."

"You're telling me. Why do you think you both disagreed so strongly when it came to Rita?"

"We both agreed that the media would ruin her childhood but the way I phrased it, made it sound like I was accusing Derv of being a bad mum and that she favoured golf and fame over Rita." Jeremy said bowing his head down in shame.

"Did your decision to apply for custody have anything to do with Peter Rose, her new fella?"

Mr Crawford hesitated before answering. "Not really they had only been seeing each other a short while but I did think he was a little aggressive towards Derv-"

"In what way?" Gerry inquired cutting the mad off, midsentence.

"He didn't like it when she stood up to him. You see I got the impression he thought women should be seen and not heard and Dervla wasn't that sort of woman. He used to talk to her like she wasn't good for anything other than housework. To tell you the truth I think he was jealous of her success."

"Can you remember if Derva had any plans for the day she died; when you picked up Rita did she give you any indication as to what she was going to do?"

The man shook his head in an apologetic way after racking his brains for a short while. "Sorry no, she may have planned a day with Peter but as she was found... as she was in the bar when we got back I expect she was practising for the Open."

"Mr Crawford, can you remember if there was any signs to suggest Dervla had company in the bar?" Gerry asked carefully, he could see in the man's eyes that this was still torturing him, it was clear that his love for Dervla Spencer had never evaporated.

"To be honest I didn't really take in all that much, I just saw Derv lying on the ground, she must have fallen off the stool as that and her glass were on the floor next to her, she was stone cold and I had to phone the emergency services and I didn't want Rita to see what was going on." The repercussions of that tragic day had caused Jeremy's eyes to cloud over and swell on the outside as he tried to conceal the fact he was about to cry.

"I understand how difficult this must be but if there is anything at all you can remember it may be vital in leading us somewhere, please take your time."

"Thank you" A long silence hung over the two of them like the black cloud of grief that was so obviously hanging over Jeremy Crawford's head.

"Come to think of it there was a bottle of rose wine on the table, which I thought was odd as Derv never drank wine by herself, it was her social drink as she called it. The funny thing was that there was no other glass on display."

"Thank you very much Mr Crawford that is most helpful, I don't suppose she used a mobile, maybe she had used it to arrange to meet someone?" Gerry tried.

"She did, her parents Bernice and Clive took most of her things, they are going to keep them all in trust until she is old enough to understand, you could try them" he smiled.

"Thank you, and thank you for your time, it has been most helpful, if you think of anything else please get in touch" he smiled extracting a card with the office's contact details.

"No thank you for investing this, I never thought she killed herself and I hope we can restore some dignity for her. Oh and Mr Standing, you will promise not to inform the media of the re investigation I don't want Rita getting upset over this."

"Of course not Mr Crawford, UCOS doesn't work like that. Bye for now."


	4. I Never Promised Her a Rose Garden

In Jack's head he was sighing with relief as he indicated right and turned into the small driveway belonging to Peter Rose. For the past twenty minutes he and Brian had been stuck in the delightful backlog of metallic vehicles. If the endless screeches of horns blown by angry commuters in frustration weren't bad enough, Brian had been picking Jack's brains over every tiny aspect related to the sport that made Dervla Spencer a household name.

Jack smiled contently as he rapped three and a half times on the subtle brass doorknocker; he finally had the two seconds of peace he had been craving.

"Mr Rose? I'm Jack Halford and this is Brian Lane, UCOS. We did ring earlier" Jack automatically said as the door swung open.

The man standing on the opposite side to the geriatrics wasn't overly tall. His appearance wasn't what Brian or Jack had been expecting, instead of the smooth impeccably groomed face, staring back at them was a face that was weathered, and the unhealed fracture serenading the bridge of the man's nose suggested that he had recently been in a scrap of some sort.

"Come in" he replied dusting down his paint splattered overalls.

"Mind the paint, I'm redecorating the hallway" Peter Rose said, his accent was a thick accent that sounded like it originated in the East End of London.

Once they had successfully dodged the open tins of white paint which were balanced on top of the extra long step ladder directly under the doorframe, Peter offered his visitors a seat.

"Mr Rose, can you please tell me what your relationship with Dervla was like in the months leading up to her death?" Jack asked getting the inquiry underway.

"Fine" he uttered without so much as a shrug, causing the pair of retired policemen to get suspicious.

"What do you have to say about the rumours that circulated around that time that you had a violent relationship towards Dervla?" Brian inquired.

"Rubbish" he said laughing off the accusations. "Nah me and Derv were solid" he said, as he did he began rubbing the right side of his neck. The repetitive, agitated motions caused Jack to wonder if this was his tell.

"So what your neighbours said about you arguing with her in the street and the fact you disliked the fact she could stand up to you-"

"Lies" the man interrupted coldly. "I mean I won't say our relationship was perfect, with roses around the door. It wasn't, we had our disagreements and yes sometimes the noisy neighbours overheard, she was feisty and dedicated most of her time to golf and fighting the keep her bairn, I was just the live-in handyman."

"How did you get that injury to your nose?" Brian asked partly out of curiosity and partly as it may shed some well needed light onto Mr Rose's temperament.

"I fell" the man quickly responded, giving Brian a cautious glare.

"Do you think the pressure of fighting for custody had taken its toll?" Brian asked aware he had rattled the cage belonging to the man sat opposite him.

"Probably, I don't really know, me and Derv didn't really have deep conversations we had fun. When she remembered what that was."

"How do you mean?" The younger of the civilian investigators asked.

"She was always training, she had a tight regime and when she wasn't playing golf she was taking the kid out to various places" Peter explained.

"When was the last time you saw Ms Spencer?" It was Jack's turn to fire the questions.

Mr Rose tutted as he thought. "A week or so before she died, I guess, I can't remember exactly it was a long time ago."

"That's alright, we just need a rough idea, is there anything you can think of that might help us?" Jack replied.

"I did ring up and ask her if she wanted to go to the flicks the day she died as she wasn't looking after the nipper but she said she had to train and an old friend might be popping round." Admitted Peter Rose.

"Did she say who she was meeting?"

"No, that's all I know."

"Where were you on the day of her death?" Brain tried.

"My ma's house, feel free to go and ask her but you won't get much sense outta 'er she's got early onset of Alzheimer's but the staff at the home she is in will vouch for me. I was there all day and all night. She lives at Willow's Specialist Care Home just around the corner."

"Were you aware that Ms Spencer had been treated for anxiety in the months prior to her death?" Jack pushed.

"I knew she was on edge a lot of the time what with the golf and the divorce, she had talked about getting looked at by a quack but I told her she was talking rubbish, she was just a bit stressed. After that she never mentioned it again."

"When did you have the conversation" asked Mr Halford.

"Well I don't know the actual date or time"

"Just a rough estimate will be suffice, Mr Rose."

"About three or four months before she died." He said coldly. It was clear to both detectives that even now after all this time and what had happened that Peter Rose wasn't in the slightest sympathetic towards his late girlfriend.

"Thank you for your time Mr Rose, that is all for now but I expect we will be in touch" Jack said rising from the settee that was desperately indeed of new springs- if not a replacement.

"So what do you reckon?" Brain asked his colleague once the front door had been closed to.

"I don't think it was him but he wasn't telling us the entire truth about his relationship with Dervla."

"I am with you on that one, shall we check out this care home as we are in the area, see if his alibi stands?"

"We might as well, come along Brian" Jack said unlocking his car.


	5. The Doctor Will See You Now

Sandra Pullman struggled to swallow the stodgy instant coffee that the work experience girl had made her. She foolishly accepted the offer of the coffee because she had been instructed to wait for Dr Jessop at his private surgery until further notice and thought it would help pass the time.

"Ma'am, Dr Jessop will see you now" the receptionist called as she leant over the desk and gave Sandra her best false smile. In return Sandra gave her a cold icy stare, nothing untoward but it was her way of silently getting back at her for calling her 'ma'am' and not being able to stomach the over baring attitude the woman possessed.

The young girl who was there on work experience trotted out from behind the desk and collected Sandra's almost full coffee cup, desperate to get wind of what was going on.

Doctor Kian Jessop was waiting outside his room as Sandra walked along the narrow sterile smelling corridor.

"This way inspector" he said taking her by the elbows and escorting her into the office.

"It Detective Superintendent actually, Doctor" she corrected him before taking a seat.

"What can I do you for Detective Superintendent?" Than man replied snidely.

"We are reinvestigating the death of Dervla Spencer; I understand she visited you and you then prescribed her with benzodiazepine tablets after diagnosing her with anxiety." Sandra stated hoping this would prompt him into enlightening her with a little more colour into the matter at hand.

"Yes that is correct. Miss Spencer had been anxious about a number of things, the upcoming custody hearing, her relationship and of course the pressure of succeeding in her sport."

"When did you prescribe Ms Spencer the medication?"

"It was two months exactly before the Open and the course of treatment should have lasted no longer than ten days, the drug can be highly addictive and I only recommend that my patients use it for the maximum of two weeks, any longer than that and it imposes a great risk on the individual" the Doctor explained.

"Tablets were found at her house, how many times had you prescribed them to her?"

"Just the once, she was due for a routine check up on the day she died, as she was due to travel the tournament the following day but she cancelled the day pervious."

"Did she give a reason?" Sandra asked.

Dr Jessop shook his head "alas, no."

"Could she have gotten hold of the benzodiazepine anywhere else?"

"Perhaps another doctor may have prescribed them to her, but I am afraid I don't know."

"What was Dervla's frame of mind like when you saw her last?"

"Normal I guess" the man shrugged "she always had a sweet nature and asked about my family; despite everything she seemed very upbeat. Just her usual cheery self."

"Thank you very much for your time Doctor Jessop."

"Not at all Detective Superintendent, please call me if you need anything else" he smiled delivering a firm handshake when Sandra offered the doctor her hand.

"Thanks very much" she smiled.


	6. Playing Through

_Each member of the Unsolved Crimes and Open Case Squad had been instructed to assemble in the club car park before approaching Miranda Jordan. Robert Strickland happened to be a member of the sister golf club of the one Miranda Jordan belonged to, therefore he was able to set up an informal interview with ease. _

_Despite Rob Strickland's car being sandwiched between a Mercedes and a Bentley he wasn't in sight when Sandra pulled into the gravel floored car park. _

_Her predictions were proved to be correct when Jack and Brian where the next to arrive. _

"Sorry we are late Sandra, we stopped by the care home Peter Rose claimed to have been at the time of Dervla's death. His alibi checks out, there is even the CCTV with all the timings to prove it." Jack said as he locked his car.

"You aren't late Gerry hasn't showed up yet and Strickland is here, somewhere. Did Peter Rose have much to say about his and Dervla's relationship?"

"Well he said they had their fair share of rows but he said they were okay. I think there is more to that than meets the eye there though." Brain replied taking in his new surroundings.

"I'll second that, he was quick to deny any public rows or the fact he argued with aggression but he gave us the impression the relationship wasn't always rosy. He wasn't even sympathetic when she confided in him about her anxiety issues. " Jack added. "Peter Rose also mentioned that Dervla Spencer had said to him that she had arranged to meet an old friend on the day she died but who that friend was he said he didn't know."

"Cheers boys, we will dig a little deeper when we get back into the office; there must be something he is refusing to tell us" Sandra smiled putting on her sunshades as the glare from the great fireball in the sky was causing her to squint as she spoke to her boys.

"How did you get on with the Doctor?" Jack inquired.

"Well he had prescribed Dervla the benzodiazepine two months before her death for ten days use only. He made it clear that they are highly addictive and he his reluctant to prescribe them for any longer than two weeks. On the way out the receptionist gave me a copy of Dervla's prescription. So it is possible that she either didn't take the drugs when they were first prescribed to her, or she got some more elsewhere. Doctor Jessop also said she was due back for a check up on the day she died but cancelled it earlier in the week but gave no reason as to why she wished to cancel the appointment."

"Do you think that was on account of meeting the 'old friend'?" Brian thought aloud.

"Possibly, we need to see if somehow we can pin down this 'old friend' and see if there is any way of finding out if Dervla had been seeing another GP, even if it was just for a second opinion." Sandra said. Jack and Brian nodded in agreement before they turned and pointed towards Gerry's car swinging into the car park blasting out some rock music that wasn't to dissimilar to Bad Faith.

"Alright, how have you all got on?" He said looking chipper as he carefully pulled to the door on the driver's side.

"If you had been here a few seconds ago you then would have known, Gerald" Sandra said giving Gerry her well rehearsed cheeky smile, before proceeding to tuned her head away and look around the car park for any sign of her superior.

"Pardon me for breathing" Gerry replied sarcastically "Well the ex husband is clearly still in love with Dervla, he says he has always known her death wasn't suicide. He also said the reason behind their split was her dedication to golf and he didn't like being in the spotlight."

"A bit like the boyfriend then" Brain added interrupting Gerry's full flow.

"Jeremy Crawford also said he believed Peter Rose was aggressive towards Dervla which was half the reason they had this ongoing custody battle." Gerry finished.

"Did he say anything about the possibility Dervla wasn't alone at the bar?"

"He did say she never drunk wine alone and when he found her, there was a bottle on the table but only the one glass, which was beside Dervla Spencer. Either she broke the habit of a lifetime or the killer took the other glass with them" Gerry speculated.

"Maybe, but we need more to go on than that if we are going to prove anything and make it stick" Sandra reminded her team.

"He did also say that her parents kept most of her belonging in trust for when her daughter was older. This included her mobile phone, I contacted the parents just before I left Crawford's house and they said they were happy for us to go through the phone and her stuff as they didn't know about her having plans to meet anyone that day. Bernice, that's her mother, said they were very close and the spoke every day. They will drop the box of things off at the office for us by this time tomorrow."

"Good work guys, it's all a good start. Finally!" Sandra exclaimed as she saw the Deputy Assistant Commissioner emerge casually from the clubhouse.

"So sorry for being late, Miranda Jordan has just finishing playing her round, I was invited to play alongside some of the members of the club while we waited for Miss Jordan" he said, sounding like he well and truly had his pipe and slippers under the table here. How is the investigation going?" He asked leading them up the path and into the clubhouse.

As Sandra informed her boss of what they had found out that morning, she was relieved to see that club welcomed its many female members as the last time she paid a visit to a golf club for work the sexist men, who were very set in their ways tried to stop her entering the building and conducting her enquiries.

* * *

The colleagues found Miranda Jordan sitting at a table overlooking the picturesque green oasis which marked the start of the intense 18 hole course. The beautiful landscapes and the fact the course wasn't made up of golfers who only played for the hell of it made Jack hungry for a serious but cheeky round of the sport golf while he was here.

The woman the squad had come to see was about five years older than her one time rival, Dervla Spencer; she had an ivory complexion that drew attention to her well defined cheek bones, despite the fact her long wavy mass of red hair did it's best to cover them up. Sat in front of her was a half drunk bottle of the finest rose wine.

Once the formalities of introductions and thanking her for taking a few moments out f her extremely bust schedule were out of the way Sandra got down to the nitty-gritty.

"So Miss Jordan, can you tell me exactly what your thoughts on Ms Spencer were?"

"She was my sporting rival, she was the reason I never won a grand slam, or any tournament." Gerry had to suppress the laugh that was trying its hardest to creep up out of his throat as the woman began to speak. He had imagined, what with her looking stunning and playing golf that Miranda Jordan would speak rather like Penelope Keith or a news reader who worked for the BBC and not with the Lancashire drawl that came out. If Gerry had closed his eyes he would have thought Sandra was interviewing Victoria Wood and not a professional golfer.

"Did you get on with her off the course?" Strickland stepped in.

Miranda shook her head. "I never really saw her after any kind of tournament, she was constantly in demand from journalists and I wasn't. So by the time I had a drink or two and she had given the world's press a few words she had disappeared, presumably she had gone home to feed that spoilt kid of hers."

"What were your intentions regarding the post you had put on your social networking site about Ms Spencer prior to her death? It was you who posted it wasn't it, Miss Jordan?" Sandra asked regaining the driving seat.

"Yes it was me who posted it. What can I say I was frustrated, I was just as good as Dervla sodding Spencer, if not better and yet it was me who always took home the pathetic silver tea tray and never the big gold cup. Ws it so wrong of me to want to win just one little game after the amount of training and practise you have to go through to even qualify? The amount of times I almost broke my back after putting blood, sweat and tears into my drive and my games. I guess Dervla just always had luck on her side." The flame haired beauty said almost snarling.

"No of course not. But isn't golf about persistence and strategy and not luck?"

"Yes I suppose so, why do you ask that" she said turning to Brian who had posed the question.

"Doesn't that suggest that Dervla Spencer was better at being persistent and had developed a way of devising a better strategy? Thus making her champion over you?" The northerner reasoned, causing Sandra and Jack to looking impressed by Brian's sudden fount of knowledge about the sport.

"Dervla's death was convent for you wasn't it?" Sandra asked before Miranda Jordan had a chance to respond to the statement put forward by Brian.

"How do you mean?"

"Well isn't it obvious, you won the Open that year and you won it the following year, when you achieved your dream of earning a Grand Slam. Now I doubt that would have been possible if Dervla Spencer was still in the picture" Jack said.

"Oh come off it" she laughed "do you think I set out to kill Dervla Spencer so I could win a competition? I know I was desperate to win at least once but that acusation is insane."

"You tell me is it all that 'insane'? Where were you on the evening of Dervla's death?" Sandra said. She was beginning to find Miranda Jordan's attitude more irritating than a wasp buzzing around each time the woman opened her mouth to speak.

"I don't remember. Sorry" she pouted in that nonchalant way famous people did to signal that they were better than the person they were talking to.

"It was three days before the Open are you sure you can't remember practising for it?" Gerry asked unable to believe that at the time she would have much else on her mind.

"Possibly" she said as she shrugged her shoulders sticking out her bottom lip as far as it would go. "Look is this all, you may not have noticed but I am a very busy woman, can I go now?"

"Of course but we will most probably be in touch" Robert said before Sandra could give her the well practised speech about how if she didn't comply the informal interview would be upgraded to a formal one at the station."

"Thank you Robert" she smiled as she shook his hand before proceeding to glare in and icy way at the rest of the team as she swiftly left the room.

"Why did you go and tell her she could leave, Sir?"

"Because Sandra, we want Miss Jordan on our side, if she isn't happy with how we treat her, the press will soon get wind of this case" he explained. "And none of us want that, do we?"

"Are you sure it isn't because you want to keep everybody at your precious golf club and its sister one happy" she muttered under her breath.

"I heard that. Keep up the hard work I am off for a round with the Commissioner in five minutes, I'll pass on your regards" Robert said as he too departed the table.

"Just who does he think he is?" Gerry scoffed.

"Leave it Gerry, come on let's get back the office and continue the 'hard work', that means you too Brian" she yelled pulling him up by the elbow.

"What?" he muttered as he tried to keep his eyes glued to the window where he had taken a keen interest in the people playing the sport and how they teed off. "I could do that" he said aloud. Luckily for him his work mates failed to hear the signs he was developing a brand new obsession.


	7. Watching the Birdie

Esther Lane sighed as she dumped the two red hot dinner plates on the table. The Lane's were supposed to be having beef wellington for dinner that evening but due to Brain's disappearance and ignorance when she called him, it appeared they were now going to be dining on mounds of over grilled charcoal.

"Brain! Dinner is on the table, how many more times do I have to repeat myself." She yelled at her husband in despair.

"I said I'm coming, Esther" he called glancing from his book to the TV.

"What on earth are you doing anyway?" She asked creeping up behind him.

"Don't do that!" He yelled as her cold breath tickled the hairs on the back of his neck. "If you must know I am learning all there is to know about golf."

"Golf? You?" His wife laughed. "What on earth for, you haven't shown any interest in the sport before."

"That was before this case." He replied holding up the picture of Dervla Spencer which was featured in his battered library book.

"That's Dervla Spencer isn't it? Didn't she die of an overdose?"

"That is what we are trying to find out" Brian replied before filling her in on every minor detail of the the case and what he and the rest of the team had already unearthed.

"So, by learning all there is to know about hitting a ball into a hole in the middle of a field you think that you can get into her mindset, is that it?" Esther knew her husband too well.

"Yes and no. Golf isn't just hitting a ball into a hole; it is all about perseverance, logic, strategy, patience and knowing which direction the wind is going to take the ball." He replied with big wide eyes, like a puppy when it is presented with food. "It is a fascinating sport, Esther" he cried with enthusiasm.

"I am sure it is Brian but can I remind you that you aren't always the patient type. Who gave up trying to mend the video and paid the boy from across the street to fix it?" She said raising her eyebrows at her husband.

"Well this will be different, it will be a good hobby to have, I think it will help me unwind and the thinking is bound to be good for the old grey matter and not to mention with all the walking I will be keeping fit."

"Brian if anything it will make you more frustrated, I thought UCOS was the thing that got you mind in gear? And anyway golfing is an expensive hobby; you need to pay for membership, lessons, clubs and those silly trousers."

"The trousers aren't silly they are very practical. It says so here in me book. And anyway Jack will teach me so we won't have to fork out for lessons."

"Does Jack know about this" Esther said suppressing a giggle.

"Well no, not yet."

"I can't see him agreeing to teach you, he will be well aware of what he will be letting himself into."

"He might, if I ask nicely."

"Good luck with that one Brian. Have you seen that Chinese takeaway menu anywhere?"

"Yes I took it away as it was lying on the coffee table; it should be in the phonebook. I thought we were having beef wellington tonight."

"So did I" his wife sighed.

"What's that smell, has scampi been eating people's left over rubbish in the park again?" Brain asked wrinkling his nose.

"No that's the beef wellington you were so busy watching the birdie or whatever you call reading up on golf that you didn't hear me shout dinner was ready."

"Oh. Sorry."

"You will be Brian; you are paying for the takeaway."


	8. Quantum

The next few days at the UCOS hub were spent doing the admin types jobs, like rummaging through the box of belonging that Dervla's mother and father had brought down. There wasn't much in the battered cardboard container to help with the case; it was mainly full of old photographs, teddy bears and small cups from golfing games Dervla had won when she was still at school.

Of course the main source of interest was her mobile phone. Unfortunately for the boys who didn't enjoy following procedure, Strickland was in the office at the time the Spencers came into the office to chat with Sandra and hand over the phone. Because of this, the mobile was bagged up and swiftly sent to forensics for analysis, which meant the boys had no time to go through the phone themselves.

"When are the results for the phone due back, Guv?" Gerry said handing his boss her purple shark mug filled to almost the top with tea.

"All being well sometime later today Gerry, how did you get on at your latest visit to the golf club?"

"Okay, no one had seen Dervla as she tended to practice for big events at home but there was a lot of talk about Miranda Jordan's attitude towards her in those few days."

"Go on" Sandra said drawing up Jack's empty chair.

"Well, she had spent the last few days moaning about Dervla and several members seemed to remember Miranda looking flustered every time her name was mentioned. She also stormed out of the club on the day Spencer died because she had been told that Dervla was in the area dropping off her daughter with Jeremy Crawford. When Miranda returned to the green her hair was 'wild, she was red in the face, she had scratches up her arms and her blood red nail polish was chipped'" Gerry quoted from notes written in his own scrawl.

"Were there any witnesses to this scrap?"

"Nah Gov'nor, no person seems to be brave enough to stand up to the likes of Miranda Jordan; you should see the way she lords over them at that course. She has them all well and truly wrapped around her little finger."

"I'm not surprised, I didn't warm to her."

"Do you ever warm to a person" Gerry joked, instead of bothering to reply to that mock insult, Sandra gave the cockney a sarcastic smile.

"I don't see why I couldn't have gone back and conducted the interviews at the club" Brian gloomily interjected.

"Because Brian I need you here, the phone and the forensic results will be back any minute and that is your area of expertise" she reasoned.

* * *

Twenty minutes or so later Jack returned from the shop with lunch for each member of the unit, as well as the bagged up phone and the envelope housing the forensic results.

Sandra tore through the envelope as she chewed her way through her chicken pasta salad.

"Well?" Jack pondered as he wiped the corners of his mouth with his handkerchief.

"There are two unsaved numbers that Dervla has exchanged frequent correspondence with especially in the months leading up to her death. The messages received sound threatening "Same again or the whole world will know what you have been trying to hide." The messages from the other number read: "You can't come to me for them, I will meet you usual place." Sandra read aloud.

"Sounds like she was being blackmailed" Brain said stuffing his face full of Malteasters.

"Or she had a dealer" Jack pointed out.

"Maybe both, as there are two different numbers" Gerry suggested.

"Anything else pulled up in the report?" Jack queried.

"Yes, this is where it gets interesting, traces of red nail polish, along with spots of blood were found on the battery case of the phone. Forensics ran a comparison of the samples and the area round the phone with Dervla's. That's why the results took so much more time." Sandra explained.

"And did they match?" Brian asked.

Sandra shook her head. Nope they do not belong to Dervla Spencer. "I think Miranda Jordan is our next point of call, seen as it appears she got into a scrap with the golfer and she allegedly chipped her nail polish during this 'scrape'. Gerry you're with me. Jack and Brian see if you can trace the numbers from the phone and if you can do a background check on the owners. Call me as soon as you are both done." She ordered, fastening up her favourite red trademark coat.

* * *

Miranda Jordan reluctantly let the officer of the law, and Gerry Standing inside her mock Georgina style mansion.

"What am I supposed to have done this time, hmm? Drowned a scout? Or are you here to accuse me of bludgeoning Dervla Spencer to death with a wedge?"

"Dervla Spencer died of an overdose and not because she was hit over the head with a golf club" Sandra said coldly.

"And I suppose you are here to accuse me of ramming drugs down her throat?" She scoffed folding her arms in disgust.

"Not quite, we have reason to believe you went looking for Dervla on the day she died. When you returned to the green witnesses say you looked like you had gotten into a bit of a scrap. Is this true?"

The middle aged woman looked blank. "Possibly, it's all such a long time ago."

"You need to try, Miranda, it will not only help the progress of this investigation but it will help you" Gerry tried, turning on that infamous charm that he possessed.

"Okay, one of the lads, Dean Thomas told me that he had just seen her dropping off that kid of hers at its dads, I was stressed and desperate so I went up to her and approached her."

"What did you say to her?"

There was an awkward silence which made Miranda more ashamed as she plucked up the courage to confess. "I offered her money to throw the last game should she and I be competing against each other in the woman's final."

"How much money did you offer her?"

"I offered her the full £166,000 prize money from the British Open if she lost to me at the final. I am not proud of it at all but I needed to win. My sponsors were threatening to drop me if I lost, without them I would have no career. I needed to do something, I was desperate. I didn't want to be a nobody. The press always were banging on about how much golf meant to Dervla but it meant a lot to me too, you know" The cold glare of hatred melted into a look of desperation and shame as her cheeks flushed a rosy red colour due to the embarrassment of it all.

"How did Ms Spencer respond to your proposition?

"She thought I was joking, and then when she realised that I was in fact being serious, she told me no and that it went against what she believed."

"And that's when you lashed out?" Gerry guessed.

The Lancashire sportswoman nodded solemnly. "She gently pushed me away, which got me feeling even madder so I went to lash out at her. That's when she threatened to call the police. I grabbed the phone off her and she knocked it to the ground. People were starting to gather so I walked away, I could see Dervla wasn't interested in any kind of fight."

"Was Dervla injured in the altercation?" Sandra asked.

"No; not so much as a scratch, as far as I am aware anyway. She got back into her Range Rover and drove off."

"Was that last time you went to speak to Dervla?" Gerry inquired.

"No, I went round to her house to say sorry for my behaviour as I knew I shouldn't have started on her and I couldn't afford for the press to get wind of it. But when I got to the house there was no answer. I pressed the buzzer on the gate several times but there was no response so I went home and began packing for the Open. I figured I could have a quiet word with her then. How was I supposed to know she wouldn't be alive for it?" The auburn haired beauty admitted.

"Approximately what time did you visit Ms Spencer's property?"

"I dunno, about four o'clock or there about" she looked at the floor in shame as she answered Sandra's question.

"Miss Jordan, we would like to take a sample of your DNA and your blood to help assist wth our inquiries, would you be happy oblige?"

"You think I did it don't you" she whispered as tears escaped down her tinted cheeks.

"It is just for routine purposes, your samples will be destroyed once the case is solved. Is that okay? If you comply it will stand you in good stead. "

"I suppose so" she replied putting giving them the impression that she possessed that stiff upper lip British persons were famous for.

* * *

Back at the office Jack was having less success than Brian was with tracing the number he had been assigned.

"The number belongs to an unregistered pay as you go phone, it was last topped up the week before Dervla Spencer died but that's all I can find at this present moment in time." Jack signed wearily as he took off his spectacles and rubbed his eyes which had become tired from staring at his computer screen for too long.

"The number ending in 0897 belonged to a Doctor Alfred Morecambe who has had a practise in the Greenwich area since 2003; he got divorced in early 2005 and hasn't been married since." Brian said proudly.

"Do you think the texts about coming to him for them were about collecting benzodiazepine tablets?"

"I do, Jack, I do."

"We best ring Sandra and let her know about this."

"No need Jack she's here" Sandra said as she and Gerry breezed back into the office.

"How did you two get on?"

"Well it turns out Miranda wanted to bribe Dervla into loosing on purpose should they both get to the final of the British Open. They got into some sort of fight about it on the day she died and on the same day Jordan claims she went round to Dervla Spencer's house at around four o'clock to apologise for her behaviour." Sandra explained.

"So her motive and means are getting stronger by the second. Don't you think we ought to bring her in for questioning?"

"I want to Brian but I think we should wait until forensics have compared her DNA and blood to the samples they already have, as we still need to prove she went into the house to make anything stick."

"How have you two got on" Gerry asked.

Once Brian and Jack had filled them in Gerry turned to the rest of the team and shared his possible epiphany. "You don't think the untraceable number knew about Dervla getting the unprescribed benzodiazepine from this Doctor bloke and was blackmailing her?"

"It is possible Gerry but until we have evidence to suggest that was why she was in contact with this Doctor Morecambe we can't go jumping to conclusions, no matter how right we think we are. Who fancies joining me in the pub? It's been a long day and I think we all deserve a drink"

"Count me in" Gerry said rubbing his hands together with glee.

"And me" Jack replied.

"Erm Jack, before we go I was wondering if I could ask you something."

"Go on then Brian, I can see you are chomping at the bit."

"I was wondering if you would be able to teach me how to play golf, please?"

"You golf?" Sandra cackled as Jack and Gerry joined her in hysterics.

"Yes, what's so funny about that, I really want to learn, please Jack what do you say?"

Jack's initial reaction was to say no. He knew exactly what Brian was like when it came to his latest obsessions, he wouldn't be able to let it go and he would have to eat, sleep and breathe golf for at least the duration of this case. He turned to Sandra and Gerry for some advice.

"Go on Jack if you don't Brian will be unbearable for weeks" Sandra reasoned.

"Oh I suppose you are right" Jack sighed "Go on then Brian I'll give you a few lessons" he sighed, admitting defeat.

Brian beamed with happiness "cheers Jack, you are a mate! Can we start tomorrow?"

"What have I let myself in for?" Jack muttered as the team dwindled out of the office and to the pub for some well needed refreshment.


	9. Is That Wise, Mr Morecambe?

**_A/N: Once again real life and work has gotten in the way, so sorry about that but anyway here is the next installment I do hope you enjoy it and anyone who doesn't get the 'joke' of the title ought to be ashamed of themselves! (If you get that you probably can see where most of my characters names stem from, if you do I really like you! lol) Enjoy! Gee x_**

* * *

It was the dawn of a brand new day and Brian Lane had returned to his work establishment before his boss and the passing of dawn. When Sandra stumbled into the office, carefully balancing her takeaway coffee in her hand she took a double take at the figure sat at Brian's work station.

"Brain it isn't even eight o'clock yet, what in god's name are you doing here?" She said putting her precious polystyrene coffee cup down so she could attempt to rub away the traces of sleep that remained in her ocean blue eyes.

"Making a rota." He said carefully drawing a perfectly straight line in pencil.

"A rota, what on earth for?"

"So both Jack and I know when me lessons are going to be" he beamed too enthusiastically at his boss for this time of day.

"Look Brian, I love the fact you are showing a very keen interest in the sport but I can't have you going on about it all the time, we still have this case to solve and I need Jack and especially you focused at all times, understood?"

Brain looked up and Sandra and reluctantly nodded. "Anyway, what are you doing here so early?"

"I wanted to ring Doctor Morecambe's surgery and inform them of our little visit today, thought it was best to catch them early, I know how bitchy these doctor's receptionists can be."

"Ah." Brian exhaled.

"What do you mean 'ah'?"

"Well, you know how I told you that he had a practise in Greenwich?"

"Yes, since the early 2000's." Sandra recalled.

"Well his ex wife Celina Morecambe is also a General Practitioner and it is her that runs the surgery. As part of their divorce settlement it was decided that in order to keep Mr Morecambe's finances afloat his ex wife would buy the practise, and that's not all."

"Go on."

"The reason why he was in the black was because he had lost his pristine reputation on account of selling pre signed blank prescriptions. Many of which included-"

"Benzodiazepine" They chorused.

"Exactly, it all came out in the divorce settlement in 2005 after Mrs Morecambe sold her story to a magazine doing features on disgraced doctors."

"Brain, how on earth did you find all this out? And at the crack of dawn too, I'm impressed."

"Thanks Sandra, well I finished the draft of my training rota hours ago and I thought I might as well run a few inquiries while I was here." He smiled, he looked prouder than his boss at his efficiency.

"Cheers Brian, I don't suppose you have an address-"

"Here" he grinned handing over a piece of paper that had been sitting patiently at the bottom of the printer ready for Sandra's arrival.

"Excellent, well I think that is where we better start today but first things first; we have a good 40minutes before Jack gets here and a decent 45 before Gerry decides to grace us with his presence, so do fancy a proper breakfast from that greasy spoon over the road?"

"I won't say no to that Guv."

* * *

Brian and Sandra returned to the office exactly a minute after Jack arrived."

"Not like you to be late Sandra" Jack joked.

"For your information Jack, Brian and I have- well Brian mainly has been here since the crack of dawn digging up the dirt on a certain ex Doctor Morecambe. So I took him out for breakfast, we need to keep that weird and wonderful brain of his well fed don't we."

"Oh, what on earth made you come to work that early, Brian?" Jack pondered.

"What I want to know is what he has done to annoy Esther today" Gerry said sneaking up on the man in question.

"Don't do that Gerry! Anyway I came in early to make Jack a rota of when I am free for my golfing lessons. I chose to work on it here as Esther was teasing me when I attempted to draw it up at home, last night." The northerner explained.

"Aren't you free most evenings?" Jack asked bemused.

"That's the conclusion I came to, yes."

"Well now that's all sorted, Guv, why don't you tell us what you have discovered about this Alfred Morecambe" Gerry suggested as he didn't want to get in the middle of Jack and Brain's official rota drawing.

* * *

The three geriatrics and Sandra panted when they finally reached the top floor of the run down council flats that stood in the very heart of Brixton.

"How the mighty have fallen" Sandra noted as she grazed the green door, complete with peeling paint, with her black leather gloved knuckles to declare Alfred Morecambe had visitors.

"I've told you I haven't got it; you will have to come back next week. I'll be able to give you next month's rent as well as the last two." Growled a deep voice.

"Mr Morecambe, we are not here about the rent. I am Detective Superintendant Pullman, I need to ask you some questions about your relationship with Dervla Spencer, may I and my team come in, please?"

"Proof first" he said as the door swung partly open, its action was restricted by the chunky silver chain that stood in the way of the team and the shabby looking man.

Sandra held up her ID badge and the man scratched his matted hair before allowing them in.

All five of them congregated in the small kitchenette as Alfred made it clear they weren't welcome in the living quarters.

"What is it you want? I am a very busy man." He snarled.

"So I see" Gerry quipped.

"I understand you had to give up your practise in 2005 due to selling blank prescriptions." Sandra stated, not liking the very close proximity between her and Mr Morecambe.

"No I had to give up that surgery due to some evil old two-timing witch who had my balls well and truly locked in a vice." The man spat right in Sandra's face.

Repulsed at the man Sandra shot back with: "But you were selling prescriptions for your own financial benefit weren't you Doctor, Sorry Mr Morecambe."

"Yes, if it wasn't for that slut of a cow I would have gotten away with it."

"Did you ever sell any prescriptions to Dervla Spencer?" Sandra tried.

"Who?"

"Dervla Spencer, Britain's best golfer, very famous you must have heard of her" Jack pushed.

"No never" he said shaking his head callously.

"Did she ever visit you at the surgery?" Gerry's attempted.

"Never" this time he shook his head with more ease than when he carried out the motion moments beforehand.

"So why were you texting her things like; 'You can't come to me for them, I will meet you usual place.' Were you falsely prescribing Ms Spencer with Benzodiazepine?"

"You must have me mistaken with someone else" Alfred laughed embarrassedly.

"The phone number had been taxing belonged to you Mr Morecambe, the phone company traced it straight back to you, so unless your phone went conveniently missing-"Jack threatened.

"Yes, Yes I think it did" He stammered.

"There are no reports of a mobile phone belonging to you being stolen, is that wise Mr Morecambe, to lie to the police?" Sandra snapped.

"Very funny joke inspector, I'm impressed. It's not like I haven't heard that one before" he said sarcastically.

"I think you better accompany us to the station, don't you Mr Morecambe? We are investigating the death of a young mother, famous or not. The least you can do is take this situation seriously" Sandra warned him.

* * *

Back at the station Gerry and Jack stood watching the man through the two way mirror. He had his head bent down against the table as he waited for Sandra and Jack to enter the room. Alfred Morecambe had a small patch of the prematurely greying, matted hair which was starting to fall out. The texture of the un kept mop made the patch of thinning hair look like a well used rug that was beginning to wear out in the middle due to countless times it had been sat on and folded away.

Brian was the next person to enter the dark interview room, shortly afterwards Sandra entered and began the process of formally questioning the disgraced doctor.

"Now Mr Morecambe, this is the last time I will ask you, what was your relationship with Ms Spencer?"

"She came to see me about her anxiety and asked if I could write her out a prescription for benzodiazepine. She claimed she was desperate."

"Why did she come to you?" Brian asked.

"The same as they all did."

"Because they knew that if they had the cold hard cash you had the goods that is correct isn't it."

"Yes he muttered quietly."

"Sorry I didn't quite catch what you just said, Mr Morecambe."

"Yes Superintendent, that is correct" he shouted beginning to find it extremely hard to keep his cool.

"Why were you selling these bogus prescriptions, Mr Morecambe? A fine doctor like you with his own practise and polished reputation like yours didn't need to resort to desperate measures such as these." Brain stated.

"I did it to keep my former wife in the manner in which she had become accustomed, look where that got me."

"Was your wife aware from the off about your little scheme?"

"Of course she was."

"Back to the matter in hand, how much money did Dervla Spencer give you for a prescription of benzodiazepine?"

"Around £50 a piece" he replied in a cool manner.

"When did she first start coming to you for these prescriptions?" Brain inquired.

"A month or so before she was due to compete in the British Open Championship, she seemed pretty desperate, her reputation, much like mine was on the line."

"How much money did she spend on these false prescriptions in total?"

"About £150."

"Was your wife aware of your meeting with Ms Spencer?"

"I am sure she was?"

"What makes you say that? Did she over hear the conversations between yourself and Dervla? Or did she read your texts?" Sandra suggested.

"No, no, no, dear" he said letting out a poisonous laugh "My _dearest,_ _darling _wife was shagging Devla Spencer's husband."

"Do you have any sort of proof of this?"

"If you count walking in on them at it like rabbits as proof, then yes I have proof" this time his reply was tinted with sorrow. Alfred Morecambe had finally let his nonchalant guard down.

"Did Dervla know about the affair?"

"I suspect so; it was always in the press about his womanising ways."

"Did she ever confide in you about your spouses affair?" Sandra asked.

"Never" he said shaking that scruffy head of hair.

"Is that why you helped Dervla out, to get back at your cheating wife?" Brain tried.

"Partly" he finally admitted "and of course the cash is always a bonus."

* * *

"Nice work you two" Gerry said as he met his colleagues in the corridor.

"Yes well we still have a long way to go, I will book us in for an appointment with Celina Morecambe first thing tomorrow and two of us can pay Jeremy Crawford a visit."

"Sounds like the ball is well and truly rolling good work" echoed the sound of the voice belonging to the one and only Robert Strickland.

"Thank you Sir, I was just about to come and find you and update you on the case" Sandra said flashing her boss a smile which caused Gerry to be a little jealous.

"Fantastic, I'll come with you to the office and you can all make sure I am kept in the loop."

As they all trundled down the corridor Gerry tried his best to keep in the middle of Strickland and Sandra while Jack and Brian trailed a little bit behind as they talked about Brain's current favourite sport.

"So are you up for a golfing lesson tonight Brian?"

"Of course" he squealed in sheer excitement.

"Are you learning how to play golf Brian?" Rob enquired.

"Nothing gets past you does it" Gerry muttered under his breath.

"I am sir, Jack is teaching me." He replied proudly.

"I will be teaching him Sir, I'm giving him his first lesson this evening."

"Excellent, when you are ready to play a proper game let me know and I will arrange for the three of us to have a whole day of golf" Rob smiled.


	10. Backswing Ball

_**A/N: As much as I am trying my best to research all there is to know about golf for this fic, I don't play it and know next to nothing about, so I apologise if you are reading it and are a player and what I have written is absolute nonsense! Gee x**_

* * *

Brain Lane raced home to change his attire, ready for his first ever golf lesson with Jack.

When he got home he was greeted by a stern looking Esther, who was stood on the doorstep with her arms folded.

"Brian, I need a word with you" she said as her husband rushed past her, causing her to spin around on her heels to avoid being knocked over.

"In a minute love, did a package arrive for me today?" He said with so much eager it looked as if his eyeballs were going to pop out of their sockets.

"That is exactly what I want to talk to you about" Esther said, struggling to keep her temper at bay. "Just what have you ordered now and how much has it set us back?"

"There is no need to be like that, Esther, love" he winced as the heavy duty jiffy bag came hurtling into his stomach. "It's only a couple of golfing jumpers, trousers, shoes and a cap, Esther. If I am going take up the sport I have to look the part. Especially now Strickland has invited me to play with him."

"Oh Brian you didn't tell him you could play, did you?"

"I told him Jack was teaching me, so it won't be long before I am on that green" he beamed.

"Oh Brain just take it one step at a time, you know what you are like when you get carried away."

"I don't suppose anything else came for me today?" He said sweetly, trying to change the subject away from his over eagerness.

"Oh yes" Mrs Lane nodded angrily.

"Goody! That will be my clubs, trolley and supply of golf balls" he said rubbing his hands together with glee.

"How much did all that cost, I won't ask you again Brian. So you'd better be straight with me." She said glaring at the man she loved.

"Umm"

"Brain!" Esther exclaimed through gritted teeth.

"I found a shop online that was selling off old stock at bargain prices." Just as he was about to admit to Esther how much he had really spent he was saved by the doorbell.

"Oh hello Esther, is he ready?"

"Hello Jack, how are you? No he isn't he's got to change in to some silly trousers first."

Jack and Esther enjoyed a cup of Earl Grey and polite conversation while Brian got changed into his brand new outfit.

"Well what do you think" he called, grinning from ear to ear with pride from the top of the stairs.

"You know it's only a lesson in my back garden, don't you Brian?"

"Yes."

"Well, that means that you don't have to wear the full outfit" Jack said. He turned to face Esther who has clearly trying to fend off a bout of giggles.

"Well I want to, these trousers are dead comfy."

* * *

It wasn't until they pulled into Jack Halford's drive when Jack realised just what he had let himself in for. He had always known that once Brian became obsessed with something that was it. You would hear nothing else for the short period of time he took up the new activity. Or he would tell you no end of pointless facts about the subject he was now interested in. But this time it was Jack who had the sole responsibility of keeping Brain Lane's obsession under control and he was more than aware of that.

Once they arrived at Jack's they made their way to his back garden. Here, Jack could comfortably teach Brain the basics of the sport using his own driving range and not having to worry about being embarrassed by Brain in public.

He fished into his own golf club trolley and exhibited the club to Brian.

"Right Brian, first things first, in order to play a good round of golf you need to have the perfect grip and stance, so that is what I would like to show you first" Jack began. He felt nervous, gold was his passion and he might have been a good tutor to Sandra in the Met, but something told him this would really be a challenge.

"Did you buy those clubs online?"

"Yes, why?"

"Well it is important that they suit your hand size, so can I ask you to take a club."

Brian obliged, he hoped to god he had bought the right ones, not because of the money but because he didn't like to be wrong.

"Now, put your thumb, it doesn't matter which, and line it up so it runs down with the club, like this" Jack said demonstrating. Brian mirrored his movements and stance with ease.

"Now I need you to interlock your two fingers on top, or if you prefer you can over lap them, but we need to make sure there is a 'V' shape over your right shoulder."

"Like this?"

"Perfect Brian, you've got a nice strong grip on the club. Well done, now practice swinging the club, imagining that there is a ball there."

As predicted ,Brain got a little too carried away with his swing and almost took Jack's eye out. Trying not to get cross Jack said; "Easy Brain, be careful we don't want any accidents and we really don't want to slice the ball."

"Slice it? I won't chop it in half will I?"

"No, no Brian, it's a golfing term, it means to swerve to the ball from left to right more so than you should. Try again."

Once Brain had got the hang of using the club, the next important lesson begun.

"Right, this is very important Brain so pay attention, we need to set up the ball and be able to draw it."

Once Jack had explained to Brain what to do with the driver he had an inkling that there would be some sort of disaster. Instead of coming inwards with his club he came in forwards and sliced the ball with such force, it curved around and hit once of Jack's ceramic plant pots.

This process was repeated several times with the same outcome, the final straw came when Brain nearly hit Mary's favourite ornament which sat by the pond.

Jack, who felt like he could have a heart attack at any given moment, decided it was probably best to end the lesson there and pick it up another day.

"You are going to carry on teaching me aren't you Jack?" Brain widened his eyes, like a spaniel, desperate for his friend not to give up on him.

"Of course, just let me regain my nerves first."

"I didn't do too badly did I?" Brain asked, slightly afraid of the answer.

Sensing this Jack replied; "No, you didn't do too badly for your first lesson and that's the truth."

The northerner beamed once again with pride. He couldn't wait for this next lesson and this time he promised he would try his best not to hit anything.


End file.
